“I can shut down the Clover,” Spalding interjected.
The room went silent, and in just a few of seconds I wasn’t the only one staring at the old engineer.
“I just need to get onboard,” the older man continued, the red light of his mechanically replaced eye burning a shade that sent a chill down my spine.
“A jump from ship to ship would be dangerous,” I argued.
“Dangerous?” McCruise said lifting an eyebrow. “Such a jump was only possible for you last time, back in Easy Haven, because the ship you were jumping towards had already been damaged to the point of near-immobility. We are seeking to avoid that, as to bring their ship to that state the Armor Prince would need to take nearly as much damage as the Larry Montagne—”
“The Lucky Clover,” Spalding exploded out of his chair, his voice rising to a shout, “her name is the Clover, and we don’t need to damage her! The Fix is in, girl, and I’m the one what fixed it.” He made a thumb’s up gesture and then thumped himself in the chest before muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like ‘idjit’.
“What are you blathering on about, man?” Eastwood demanded hotly. “Speaking to a Captain like that is unacceptable!”
“No,” McCruise said firmly, “let him speak; it’s been a rather long time since anyone has thought to call me a ‘girl’.”
“As soon as I’m aboard, I can shut her down and then you can board and retake her,” Spalding said proudly. “And won’t that show the Captain,” he raised a fist in the air and shook it, “a more fitting reply to his treachery, taking everything he has ever desired from him, I can’na imagine!”
One of the Cutter captains coughed with embarrassment and you could tell which people in this room had come from the Clover and which had transferred over from Easy Haven by the expressions on their faces.
“The Lucky Clover is everything he’s ever wanted?” McCruise asked pityingly.
“As long as he possesses the Clover, he has the keys to the Kingdom—the keys,” Spalding said, his voice lowering to a whisper, “to Known Space—the entire Galaxy, perhaps. Who knows what he could do if he remains in possession of that ship!” He may have started out whispering, but he ended at a near roar.
I felt dismayed, and I wasn’t the only one. But the new transfers didn’t look dismayed, they looked like they’d just stepped into the room with a crazy uncle who needed to be shuffled out of the room as quickly as polite convention allowed.
“Spalding,” I wasn’t really sure how to put this, “maybe we need to focus more on the here and now.” I felt like I was somehow letting the old engineer down, even though he had clearly gone beyond the pale, “Things like how exactly we’re going to get on that ship in the first place?”
“I already told you: I took care of that part,” Spalding sneered, “that’s not important. We have to stop him—he has to be stopped!”
“Yes, of course he does,” I soothed, “and no one wants him stopped more than me. The man shot me and left me for dead; if it weren’t for that backstabbing weasel, I’d—” I cut myself off. Even now I couldn’t say anything that might smack of praise for my belated First Officer turned traitorous Chief of Staff. The man might have saved me, but until and unless he passed a chemical interrogation, I wasn’t going to believe he did it out of the goodness of his heart. That man was an unrepentant, die-hard Parliamentarian and as far as I could tell, he considered me a natural enemy of the common man. That sort of thinking didn’t leave much room in a man’s heart for the milk of human kindness or loyalty to a royalist such as myself.
“Promise me we’re going to take back the Lucky Clover, Jason,” Spalding demanded his crazy biological eye boring into mine, “we can’t let him get away with the ship!”
“Saving millions of people has to be our top priority, Spalding,” I said gently, and I couldn’t suppress a wince as his face twisted with fury.
“After everything I’ve done and everything you’ve failed to do, you can’t even promise this one thing,” Spalding raged as he got to his mechanical fleet, “what kind of Admiral are you!?”
“Tell me how we can take back that ship without destroying her and we’ll do our best to make it so,” I said as seriously as any man could when he couldn’t even meet his accuser’s eyes.
“But I already told you,” Spalding exploded, pounding his fists on the table, “all you have to do is get me within turbo-laser range and I can do the rest!”
I gaped at him, but Captain McCruise was made of sterner stuff. “You most certainly said nothing before about getting within turbo-laser range of that battleship before this moment,” she growled.
Spalding waved a hand in the air. “Details, these are just details,” he said irritably, “I already told you the Fix was in, didn’t I?”
“Hardly the most illuminating of statements,” McCruise said irritably.
“If I can get on the ship, then I can shut her down,” Spalding said with a hungry smile on his face, “and then the Clover will be ours again!”
“How many men would you need to ‘get on the ship’ to be able to perform this miraculous feat?” McCruise inquired mildly.
Spalding chewed on his upper lip for a moment, “A small team would be best, but I could probably do it all by my lonesome if need be,” he said with a decisive nod.
“Impossible,” Officer Eastwood exploded, “one man to take down a battleship? That’s not just insane, it’s preposterous!”
Spalding got a shifty look on his face, “Not if you’ve got the scram codes for the fusion reactors,” he said with an exaggerated wink.
Jaws dropped around the table, but the First Officer picked up the torch. “Even if,” Eastwood spluttered, “you’d still have to get on board and then manually enter those codes from a console in Main Engineering.” His resolve and disdain were slowly returning as he spoke, “There’s no way anyone is going to miss a borged-out, former Chief Engineer who just happens to be wandering around the Engineering deck in the middle of combat. Security will be on you like a politician on pork before you can say ‘boo’.”
“Not if I happen to have the override codes to the turbo-lift system,” Spalding said, and I didn’t know it was humanly possible to put as much condescension as he did into those last few words. “Which I have, and,” he bared his teeth, “if you know the combination to take that lift directly into the Chief Engineer’s Office, then inputting the codes from the Chief Engineer’s console and shutting down those reactors long enough for the Prince to grapple and board her would be child’s play,” he finished triumphantly.
I could see rising excitement on the faces of everyone else around the table.
“Even so,” Eastwood said, his face falling, “jumping from ship to ship is still an insanely dangerous way of traveling. And any shuttles would be blown to pieces long before it could land.”
“The Fix is—” Spalding started to repeat himself for the nth time.
“Mr. Spalding!” McCruise exclaimed, and I also cut in.
“What exactly is this ‘fix’ you keep talking about, Commander?” I interrupted, shooting McCruise a ‘be quiet and let your Admiral handle this’ look.
Spalding blinked in brief confusion. “The Fix is a modified, Penetrator Class Lander—but it’s been upgraded since it was last used by Marines and Lancers for boarding operations,” Spalding said, swelling with obvious pride.
My mouth muscle started to stretch and I quickly realized I was grinning like a fool, so I quickly stiffened my upper lip and tried to look nonchalant as I swept the table with my gaze. I saw that I wasn’t the only one who was suddenly proud that our Chief Engineer hadn’t yet lost all his marbles as the other old Clover crew was giving their Easy Haven brothers and sisters a few superior looks.
“Let me be clear,” Captain McCruise said, her eyebrows climbing for the rafters, “The Fix is a Lander you’ve prepared for the specific purpose of boarding a small strike team onto a Dreadnaught Class Battl
eship?”
Spalding looked at her like she was stupid. “I told you The Fix was in,” he said, rolling his good eye, “she’s down in shuttle bay two, slip eight this very moment.”
McCruise gave a slow nod. “One question,” she said, “I’m just curious…you see, I’ve been in the Confederation Fleet for a long time and I’ve never even heard of a Penetrator Class Lander before.”
“Oh,” Spalding said and I could see the dawning realization in his eyes, “the Penetrator Class is a two hundred year old model that was just layin’ around, pickin’ up space dust at the Wolf-9 bone-yards. They were discontinued because modern technology made them impractical; couldn’t get close to their targets without horrendous casualties, so they stopped using them. But don’t worry,” he smiled as he buffed his fingernails on his collar, “I’ve made a few upgrades.”
“Wonderful,” Synthia McCruise said in an utterly emotionless voice.
“Once again with the insanity,” Eastwood blurted, and not for the first time since the start of the meeting.
“She’ll be right,” Spalding snapped, “I’d stake my life on it, First Officer.”
I placed my face in the palm of my hand. I could tell this was going to be a long meeting
Chapter 55: Reaping the Whirlwind
“The Bugs are finally going in,” Sensors reported with a viciousness I wasn’t used to hearing from members of my bridge crew.
“It looks like they’re sending in an advanced force of Heavy Harvesters, Medium Harvesters and smaller Bug Scouts and Scout Marauders,” Captain Laurent said with a grim expression. “I read two Heavy Harvesters, another four Medium Harvesters, and thirty two of their smaller ships.
“A potent force,” I said, my mouth twisting as I imagined my uncle assessing the odds on his throne—my throne, the Admiral’s Throne on the Lucky Clover. Our Clover, for I refused to believe that my battleship belonged in any part to that madman.
“Let us just hope that your uncle the Blood Lord doesn’t take to his heels as quickly as he did the last time he encountered a large ship,” Captain Laurent said derisively.
“If our blood relation weren’t as clear as the nose on that pirate’s eye-patched face of his,” I scowled thunderously, “I wouldn’t even admit to him being a relative. As it is, he’s got two Battleships and a passel of Corvettes, Destroyers and a pair of Light Cruisers while the Bugs have a similar number, at least as far as he can see. I’d like those odds if I were him.”
“We can’t choose our family,” Laurent said with scant sympathy in his voice, “we’re stuck with whatever blood ties we’re born with and I hope, for the sake of this ship that, that your read on the Pirate Prince is correct.”
“That man is no family of mine,” I said hotly, “family implies something closer than the reality—loyalty perhaps…closeness maybe. A relative, on the other hand, can snub you every day of your life and then stab you in the back and no one will think wrong of it,” I drew myself up haughtily, “and that man is a relative, if ever I’ve seen one. That said, I make no promises where that backstabber is concerned.”
“I think your definition of a relative is a bit off,” Laurent said, looking as if he was choosing his words carefully to avoid setting me off.
“Well, if the space gods are willing and Saint Murphy watches our back for the dagger, Jean Luc will be dead this time tomorrow and all such distinctions will become academic,” I said with a greedy, shark-like smile. I could almost taste the sweet, savory flavor of revenge in my mouth.
I closed my eyes for a long moment, thinking what was to come and after that brief, glorious moment I cruelly jerked myself back up short. There would be plenty of time to pat myself on the back until my arm broke after my Pirate Uncle and self-proclaimed Blood Lord, Jean Luc Montagne, was dead and incinerated in corona of the nearest star.
“There they go,” the Captain, said drawing me back from my reverie.
I blinked my eyes to clear them and focused on the main screen.
“They’re going right into the most tempting source of biomass for light years,” Laurent said with satisfaction in his voice, “there’ll be no turning the Bugs around now.”
“Hey,” I exclaimed, “there’s no need to become overjoyed at the thought of the Bugs thinking it’s such a sweet idea to eat everyone on Tracto.”
Laurent blinked. “Sorry, Sir,” he said with a frown, “it’s just that this was a necessary part of the plan, if your idea’s going to work.”
I politely ignored the way he was distancing himself from the battle plan by calling it ‘my’ idea. If we won, I’m sure he’d be calling the victory something ‘we’ had done, but if we lost…Victory had a thousand fathers and mothers, but defeat was and would always be a bastard child of my own unique and unnatural creation.
Although, maybe that wasn’t an entirely fair assessment in this particular instance, since I did give the man the perfect opportunity to shoot me in the back and he’d declined to do so.
“No worries, Captain,” I said, trying to shrug off the ‘perhaps’ unintended insinuation, “so far they’re doing pretty much what we want them to do.”
“That’s always when something’s about to go wrong,” Laurent muttered direly.
I cocked an eyebrow at the other man.
“Right when you think they’re doing exactly what you want them to do,” he brought his hands together with a resounding ‘wham,’ “they pull the rug out from under you and leave you scrambling.”
“Perhaps it’s time to go to silent running and start sneaking into the star system?” I mused, rubbing my chin thoughtfully.
“It’s still a few hours early,” Laurent demurred, “and if we’re silent running we can’t get near as much speed as if we light off the engines.”
“No need to run the risk of stray emissions getting out to the pirates,” I concluded after thinking it over, “even if we’re on the other side of the star system from the vector of the Bug incursion, those pirates are going to actively scan everything and its ugly brother.”
“As you command,” Laurent said with a barely perceptible shrug as he turned to the bridge crew. “Battleship to silent running; Comm., contact the rest of the fleet via whisker laser and relay the orders: all ships are to rig for silent running.”
“Yes, Captain,” the com-tech said, holding a hand to his headset as he began relaying the orders, and soon afterward the rest of the fleet went to silent running.
“I guess there’s nothing left to do but wait for stragglers,” I said after a minute.
“If any of the pirates break and run we’ll be in position to sweep them up if they flee in the opposite direction from the Bug Armada,” Laurent replied evenly. “Of course, if they try to go off at an angle away from them, things might become more difficult.”
Several more minutes passed as the Bugs headed further into the system, and the pirate ships scrambled to form up and meet them.
“Blast it,” I grumbled, “I feel like I’m nothing better than a carrion bird. Sitting out here and enjoying the scenery, waiting for some fresh meat to drop just doesn’t sit right.”
“We have by far the less potent force,” the Captain said philosophically.
“Still it, sits wrong with me,” I grumped, “skulking around the outskirts of Tracto like some kind of criminal or Easy Havener while the actual criminals go to fight the Bugs.”
“I think you’re too hard on our loyal comrades to lump them in with this sort,” Laurent warned with a glint in his eye.
“You’re right, of course,” I apologized without any feeling. I was still smarting over the way Commodore LeGodat had sat around for weeks waiting for his perfect weather window before acting. Said window only arriving when Spalding threw caution to the wind and blew through Praxis like a whirlwind. Now there’s the sort of example I should be emulating, I thought, feeling thoroughly disgusted with myself. Straight down their throats and the Demon take the hindmost.
“It’s t
he smart play,” Laurent said sternly, as if I were some kind of truant child he had to watch out for.
Like I would really try to charge our ships towards the enemy without any hope of success, I scoffed internally.
“It’s a good thing her Ladyship isn’t here,” the Captain said, and my blood ran cold.
“Yes,” I agreed, “I doubt she would have been willing to sit here doing nothing while her home world was occupied and under threat of worse.” I shuddered to think what she would say if I tried to hold her back, “Heads would roll,” I said bleakly. It was never wise to upset a woman with a sword—especially that woman.
Although, come to think of it back when I’d had a sword, she hadn’t seemed to care how much she upset me. Women, I thought, shaking my head and then instinctively hunching my shoulders and looking around furtively as if expecting a blow.
Seeing that my erstwhile wife hadn’t magically appeared to scowl or clout me upside the head, I breathed a sigh of relief. I really need to get a grip, I thought as I turned to the nearest yeoman and ordered some tea. This was going to be a long afternoon, and it was important I stay refreshed.
Leaning back in my chair as the first of the fastest Bug Scouts ran headlong into a squadron of pirate Corvettes and got themselves annihilated, I idly wondered if the mess could send up some popcorn. Seeing the quickly sprawling fleet action and resulting destruction, I found out that I rather enjoyed watching my enemies destroy each other. I’d rather watch this than a holo-movie any day of the week, I thought with satisfaction, the trial and tribulations of a Confederation Admiral feeling lighter than they had in a long, long time.
Chapter 56: The Furious Phoenix
“How soon can the Furious Phoenix jump out of this accursed star system—this blight on the river of stars,” Akantha demanded hotly. The thought of staying any longer in this barren wasteland of an island star system enraged her; she was so close, her navigators had told her so, and there was still nothing she could do for her home world! It was enough to drive a woman to cold-blooded murder.
Admiral's Revenge (A Spineward Sectors Novel:) Page 40
